Left Behind
by CompYES
Summary: Drabble-fic. On moving day, Howl claimed that Turnip Head couldn't come with them because his enchantment was too strong for the spell. But was that the real reason?


**Left Behind**

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**Summary**: Drabble-fic. On moving day, Howl claimed that Turnip Head couldn't come with them because his enchantment was too strong for the spell. But was that the real reason?

**AN**: I don't know, it just struck me as weird that Turnip Head had to be left behind. So I wrote this to satisfy my curiosity.

**Spoilers**: Probably.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Howl's Moving Castle_. It belongs to Miyazaki and Diane Wynne Jones.

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"I'm afraid your spell is too strong for this move. You're going to have to stay behind." Howl explained to--what was it Sophie and Markle referred to him as? Turnip Head?-- Turnip Head.

The ever smiling animated scarecrow simply swayed in the breeze blowing at his back in response. Howl grinned back at him, albeit too friendly for it to be completely real. If he was being honest, he didn't particularly like this Turnip Head very much. It was incredibly irrational of him to feel that way. Considering he had the Witch of the Waste, who had hounded him across the wastes tirelessly, and the dog of Madame Suliman, who in his boyhood had constantly bitten his ankles. Despite the fact that they had both wronged him in the past, they were pretty harmless the way they were now, so he bore them no ill will. There was something comical about the witch being reduced to spoon feeding by Sophie (bless her soul). And the dog was so old now, Howl was sure there was little bite left in him.

So why was it he had such distaste for the scarecrow?

Tearing his attention away from the preparations to glance at Sophie, he realized that maybe that was the reason. Being the caliber of wizard he was, seeing through the spell on Sophie had been simple. The Witch of the Waste hadn't been trying very hard when she'd cursed Sophie. Sophie's curse was actually not as bad as she believed it to be. This curse in particular could only be broken by the victim themselves. If she had willed it, it would have probably worn off a lot sooner than now. It wasn't the curse that was keeping Sophie from returning to her actual age, but her own resignation to its effect. She didn't believe in herself enough to break it, and had begun to grow too accustomed to being stuck that way. It was a wonder she'd made any progress in breaking it by this point.

But Howl secretly never wanted her curse to break. Oh, there were plenty of times he could have done it himself. Even Calcifer with a little help could've pulled it off. Howl didn't want it though, and had turned the demon down when it had suggested it the other day. The demon had more faith in Sophie to stay with them and fulfill her promise to break their spell than he did. It wasn't that he didn't trust Sophie not to, the girl was too damned noble for her own good. It was what would happen once she did (and he didn't doubt for a second she could). Once she was young again, with no obligations to help them any longer, she would be free to return to her friends and family. That thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Sophie was part of _his_ family.

She belonged to him...

...And Markle and Calcifer of course.

So that was where the scarecrow came in. Though he had feigned ignorance earlier, he had actually known the scarecrow had been stowing away on the castle the whole time. Calcifer had sensed his presence not long after Sophie had shown up and had told Howl immediately. At first, Howl cared little about what the scarecrow did. There was no tracking spell on him, meaning he wasn't a plant by either the Witch of the Wastes or Madame Suliman. Still, he had ordered Calcifer to not let Turnip Head in. Even then, he couldn't bring himself to like the scarecrow. It was probably because he had known just who Turnip Head had been the whole time. He'd had to look a little deeper to see through the curse, but once he had, he couldn't help but wonder if some higher power hated him. He had the key to ending the war adorning the roof of his home, but there was only one way the man would be able to change back.

A kiss from one's true love.

Howl gagged.

True love was what he promised to lure girls to his side when he went seducing some pretty young thing here and there. He refused to believe in it personally, though he admitted it existed somewhere. He'd seen two little old people sitting together contently holding hands. He imagined they'd been together for half a century now, happily married, with kids, and probably grand kids. If true love was real, that was it. But Howl refused to believe he'd ever get that far. All those girls he'd courted ended up getting boring. No matter what type of girl they were, all of them got clingy, and insisted that he had to settle down and marry them. Howl didn't want that though. He wanted his freedom, not to mention those kinds of attachments were dangerous. Many of the girls he had chosen to woo had ended up getting hurt by the Witch of the Wastes. Sophie was a testament to the woman's ruthless jealousy. He'd only walked her to the bakery and the witch had cursed her not hours later. If he still had his heart, he would have felt incredibly guilty for being the cause of Sophie's suffering.

As it was, he was an incredibly self interested individual and couldn't feel too bad because the result of the curse was that he had the opportunity to see her again. He liked the girl, even from the minute they'd first met, quite a lot. There was something equally nice and infuriating about a no nonsense girl who wouldn't put up with his eccentric behavior. None of the other girls really knew what kind of person he really was when he wasn't toting his guitar and romancing them. He'd always played upon the intrigue of a mysteriously handsome young stranger. Sophie was thoroughly unimpressed by his looks, his charm, AND his mystique. It was refreshing.

That's why he couldn't let the scarecrow come with them. He was sure he could've swung having him come with them, but he didn't want to. He didn't want the prince growing any closer to Sophie, even if he was still a scarecrow. He couldn't bare the thought of Sophie kissing Turnip Head returning him to the way he was. In his mind's eye, he could almost see it playing out. Sophie would innocently give the scarecrow and innocent kiss for some thing or another, and like the tale of the princess and the frog, voila! a Prince. The prince, with all his princely charm and gallantry and sensitivity (the ponce), would sweep her off her feet and into the sunset. She'd be unable to resist him. He was a prince after all (though Howl was no pushover himself). Who said no to a prince?

He'd be damned if he let some poncy prince dressed in ridiculous pastels come in and disrupt his family in such a way.

"Line them up Calcifer!" he called up to the house once he'd finished the primary transportation circle outside. With little effort, he jumped up onto the castle level and with another jump, landed in the gaping maw of the castle and through the hole Sophie had blasted into it.

As he herded everyone to the table, his eyes caught the witch's. She glanced at Turnip Head then back at him knowingly before returning to her previous state of dementia. Of course she would see through his lie to the scarecrow. Scowling at having been figured out, he hurried to get the move over with before he felt any worse about leaving the smiling scarecrow behind. It wasn't like they were really going away. He'd still be on the wastes side of the door.

Thinking that still comforted him little.

**Fin**


End file.
